Mar 31, 2010
Mar 28, 2010
Amen to this. And Amen.
Mar 25, 2010
The sisters had a great time together!
For more about the drill team go here: http://drillsquad.com/index.html
Mar 24, 2010
Mar 23, 2010
You Have Reached the Offices of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. For God the Father, Press One...
Once when I had the flu I bent over to pick something up and kept going hitting my head on a window sill. Feeling a trickle i looked in the mirror only to discover that I probably needed 2 to 3 stitches over my eye. It was hardly worth the effort in my current state so I grabbed a bag of frozen peas and lay down on the sofa instead. The boy sees me and becomes alarmed at the sight of blood. With children it is always about the blood. I am firmly convinced a child could witness the most horrifying accident imaginable but if no blood was involved it would not leave the slightest impression. Add in a droplet of blood and they would require counseling for life. My boy assess this situation and in an alarmed voice yells, "Mom! You need help!" He then runs to the phone. 911? No. "How do I call God?" I explained calling God was called prayer and it was not done with a phone. Calling God was like a conversation. God always hears our prayers because he is a heavenly father who loves us. You simply talk to Him. I see the boy walk over to a corner and say, "God, mom needs help." He then walks over to me and informs me, "He'll be right here." Even with the raging fever I figured this was gong to be worth staying awake for. Sure enough, five to ten minutes later a neighbor knocks on the door. She was on her way to the grocery store but "something compelled" her to stop in. Great. "Could you butterfly my head shut?" She did and I recovered from the flu and the laceration. Today, as all three of the kids are acting like giant pissants, I pause to ponder and reminisce about this precious moment. It is so much easier than implementing time out for life times three.
Mar 21, 2010
Treat yourself to the special and learn something new. You won't regret it.
Mar 19, 2010
Last night I went to my sons school to celebrate it's 40th birthday. We're sitting at the beautifully decorated table eating the catered dinner when one of the moms who sees me opening a pat of butter warns me that it is very, very hard. The words are barely out of her mouth when the butter flies out of the package like a hockey puck and hits me smack on the tip of my nose. I'm still reeling with the force of the impact when it then bounces off my nose and flies onto the floor about 2 feet away. The people at the table (all strangers) couldn't even begin to pretend they didn't see this happen. It was clear to me that they were straining to be polite but simply could not control their impulse to explode with laughter. I was laughing so hard food would have come out of my nose had it not been swollen shut from the force of the direct hit. So much for making a good impression. As if that wasn't bad enough I then had to ask my son's teacher if I could write a bad check for the raffle tickets. Don't buy raffle tickets you say? Honey, this is a Catholic school. Not buying a raffle ticket borders on the sacrilegious. And oh, lets not forget the thought of paying $20.00 for dinner when all my son would eat was 1/2 of a dinner roll. Without butter. The good news was it was a magical night with families of other special kids who are the most joy-filled, tolerant , down to earth bunch you'd ever want to break bread with. Or break your nose with. The kids musical performance was so touching. The art work was simply beautiful. I am in utter amazement of both art and music teachers at this school. How do they get these kids with special challenges to create such masterpieces? How do they tap into the creative energy of a non-verbal or autistic child? How do they get a dyslexic, ADHD child to study Van Gogh or Dali? How is it that every child who leaves the school reads music? The best moment was when my son, who was playing percussion, suddenly left the stage area walks over to me and gives me a kiss. You could hear the audience ooooing and aaaahhing and one dad asking very loudly, "How come our kids never do that?" which brought more laughter. And so is life. You take the good with the bad and after a while you realize something. It's all good.
Mar 18, 2010
Today I set up a stereo set that I had in the attic because I thought it would be nice to listen to the radio while i was putzing around. Of course there is no radio. Ok. I'll play a DVD. Of course I could not get it to work. So what's new? I can't tell a speaker from a woofer and have no clue what wire goes where. When I want to play a DVD or old VHS I call my teen who is developmentally delayed. She can always get them up and running and rolls her eyes at me like my daughter the genius when I have computer issues. I simply gave up on the stereo and went about my business. After all this techno challenge of mine is nothing new. Later in the day the baby is crawling around on the floor and the next thing I know Michael W. Smith is blasting and I mean blasting from the stereo. There sits the baby not knowing if she should be frightened or proud of her accomplishment. I don't know what the child pushed or how she made music but I am grateful and not at all surprised that a developmentally delayed 2 year old has more techno sense than her mother. I'm long past the humiliation.
Mar 16, 2010
And speaking of Gregory Peck... I thought it would be fun to list your favorite fiction books in the comments section. Now I know I have more followers that the ones who actually admit they follow this so I would love to hear from everyone. You can list as many as 5 or as few as one. I want books that have impacted your life i.e., books you just cannot forget. Here are mine:
1.) A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith (pictured above.)
2.) To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee (yeah Gregory Peck! An awesome old movie as well!)
3.) Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank
4.) East of Eden by John Steinbeck (I love, love, love Steinbeck)
5.) The Stand by Stephen King
I would love to read a book from everyone's favorite list! You can even choose which one! Note to Jennie: PLEASE don't ask me to read Anna Karenina. Please.
Mar 15, 2010
I've been collecting buttons for more years than I care to admit. When I was little my mom had a button jar and I would sit for hours pondering every, single, button in the jar. The one that I remember vividly was red and sparkly and mom told me it was a real ruby. It's a strain on the memory cells but I'm pretty sure it was really glass. Recently, I decided to do something with my buttons and vintage jewelry and have been working on ideas. Since then my button collection seems to have exploded. When my friend Barb's mom passed away recently Barb gave me her mom's button jar! What a treasure! I'm sure Grace would approve as we were kindred spirits in the world of gardening and crafts. My friend Bobbie, who thinks I am a little button goofy, scoured her house recently and gave me a baggie of buttons. Now, my neighbor Joan upon finding out I liked buttons and old jewelry says she going to bring me a ton of stuff she has left over from one of her estate sales. Oh, how I love Joans' estate sale leftovers! Recently I dreamed about a big bowl of buttons. It was almost as pleasant as the dream where I was making out with Gregory Peck. Almost but not quite. Buttons better than Gregory Peck? Now that would really be a Baptist white lie.
Mar 14, 2010
My Friend Kathy sent this to me and I love it:
Alice Grayson was to bake a cake for the Baptist Church Ladies' Group in Tuscaloosa , but forgot to do it until the last minute. She remembered it the morning of the bake sale and after rummaging through cabinets, found an angel food cake mix & quickly made it while drying her hair, dressing, and helping her son pack for scout camp.
When she took the cake from the oven, the center had dropped flat and the cake was horribly disfigured and she exclaimed, "Oh dear, there is not time to bake another cake!" This cake was important to Alice because she did so want to fit in at her new church, and in her new community of friends.
So, being inventive, she looked around the house for something to build up the center of The cake. She found it in the bathroom - a roll of toilet paper. She plunked it in and then covered it with icing. Not only did the finished product look beautiful, it looked perfect. And, before she left the house to drop the cake by the church and head for work, Alice woke her daughter and gave her some money and specific instructions to be at the bake sale the moment it opened at 9:30 and to buy the cake and bring it home.
When the daughter arrived at the sale, she found the attractive, perfect cake had already been sold. Amanda grabbed her cell phone and called her mom.
Alice was horrified-she was beside herself! Everyone would know! What would they think? She would be ostracized, talked about, ridiculed!
All night, Alice lay awake in bed thinking about people pointing fingers at her and talking about her behind her back.
The next day, Alice promised herself she would try not to think about the cake and would attend the fancy luncheon/bridal shower at the home of a fellow church member and try to have a good time. She did not really want to attend because the hostess was a snob who more than once had looked down her nose at the fact that Alice was a single parent and not from the founding families of Tuscaloosa , but having already RSVP'd , she couldn't think of a believable excuse to stay home.
The meal was elegant, the company was definitely upper crust old south and to Alice 's horror, the cake in question was presented for desert!
Alice felt the blood drain from her body when she saw the cake! She started out of her chair to tell the hostess all about it, but before she could get to her feet, the Mayor's wife said, "what a beautiful cake!" Alice , still stunned, sat back in her chair when she heard the hostess (who was a prominent church member) say, "Thank you, I baked it myself."
Alice smiled and thought to herself, "God is good."
Been so busy. As if life isn't complicated enough throwing 6 nebulizer treatments a day in there really kicked the craziness up a notch. Good news though, baby is better and will be returning to Pre-K tomorrow. Ready for round 10? Ding Ding Ding. Last week I came home from work and grabbed the mail. There was a pamphlet from Art Camp which i ripped open (See 1/29/10 posting regarding art camp and the origami femur fracture). There in the middle of a beautiful collage of children making art is my boy! Ah, how adorable and not hard to miss as it is the largest photo in the collage. Children holding up their paintings. Children playing African musical instruments. Studious children at easels creating works of art. The boy holding up a...paint brush.....work of art...African drum....no.....a lizard. A lizard. I came to the conclusion finally that I was grateful that he had pink and purple paint on his fingers so it was obvious he had been doing something "artistic" at the not so inexpensive art camp. And I was grateful after closely studying the lizard that it was not pink and purple. To see the pamphlet go to: